After grilling steaks and baking potatoes last night (instead of the usual turkey and trimmings), we piled on the blankets and were happy to find warm sunshine in the morning.
Another beautiful, if not terribly warm day invited us to explore some more. I’d seen the term Rocky Point here and there but couldn’t figure out where it was, then discovered it’s the English translation of the very town we wanted to go see…Puerto Peñasco. The Organ Pipe’s visitor center had plenty of maps, tourist information, and helpful hints so we headed south once again, this time right on through the big brown fence.
As much as I’ve traveled in this country, I have not been to Europe or any other countries but Canada and a tiny bit of Mexico. Travel in Canada is not much different from travel here except for French subtitles on everything and remembering to look at the kph on the speedometer instead of mph. Travel in Mexico is immediately Someplace Else. But I shift mental gears, drag up what little Spanish I learned many years ago, figure out the road signs, and start feeling comfortable again.
The drive to Puerto Peñasco takes about an hour and the closer we get, the more obvious it is that Rocky Point is a tourist attraction for Americans. Multi-story hotels, apartments, condos, and beautiful homes, plus billboards all in English, don’t spell quaint fishing town on the Sea of Cortez. After a few wrong turns, we find the Old Port area and a place to park. The colorful shops and their equally colorful owners are little changed from Tijuana forty years ago. At first we just dodged them, then got with the program, laughed and kidded with them and made our way to a tiny restaurant with a marvelous view. 
Carne asada tacos were tasty and the lemonade…really limeade…was scrumptious. After I’d finished the pico de gallo (chopped fresh tomatoes, peppers, onions, and probably cilantro) and drinking the limeade, I remembered the warnings against eating fresh veggies and drinking the water and wondered if Montezuma was still taking his revenge on unsuspecting tourists. I’m happy to report I survived that yummy lunch with no ill effects at all.
Tourist traps are tourist traps and they are not our favorite destination, so we slowly made our way out of town back up the highway to the visitor center for El Pinacate. The official name of this huge national wildlife refuge is much longer but I don’t have it in front of me and everyone just refers to it as Pinacate…Spanish for black beetle. There may be some beetles there but the name comes from the huge flows of black lava from some long-ago eruption. The visitor center is extremely impressive, the first in all of Central America or Mexico (is Mexico in Central America?) to be independent of the electricity grid and water. Its contents are beautifully displayed, some even in English. The most impressive part of Pinacate is the circle drive further up the road that goes to three huge craters. But the drive takes longer than we have available so we have to be satisfied with pictures.
We finish the trip, present our passports on the south side of the fence, and in a few moments we are back in Arizona. Five miles up the road we turn off for the campground and we are home.
At Home...On the Road 